Of the many Hollywood "Bible epics" of the 1950s and later, 1954's Day of Triumph is perhaps the least known today—even though it was the first American feature of the post-silent era to dramatize the life of Jesus.
Part of its obscurity is that Day of Triumph did not originate with megabucks movie-mogul tycoons but as the last and biggest work from faith-based Cathedral Films, creators of many church-education and evangelical shorts. However, for this project, the producer Reverand James K. Friedrich hired "name" Tinseltown talent: venerable actor-turned-director Irving Pichel (who died during post-production; directing credit would be shared with John Coyle), thespian Lee J. Cobb, and screen siren Joanne Dru (a particularly glamorous Mary Magdelene). Another factor was that during the 1960s the film was withdrawn from US circulation on charges of anti-Semitism.
With this Festival Films re-release, behold ye one case where charges of racial insensitivity in a vintage movie seem unfounded. In fact, the script eases into the final years of Christ (a narrative arguably resembling Matthew's Gospel account the most) in almost secular-history fashion, framing its tale in flashback form, as a fictitious Hebrew revolutionary, Zadok (Cobb) sadly informs comrades of a failed attempt to kindle an uprising of the Israeli people against the Roman empire.
Jesus, Son of Joseph (actor Robert Wilson, a Cathedral Films regular with Charlton-Heston-like looks but a softer dialogue delivery), abruptly appears preaching in Galilee, inspiring another nationalistic Jewish man, Judas Iscariot (James Griffith, a specialist in bad guys), to stir rumors that the Messiah, a literal "King of the Jews" has arrived.
Judas and Zadok covet Jesus as a figurehead around whom long-awaited rebellions could start. But Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead and other miracles occur—mostly related by characters second-hand, not shown. Could this Jesus really be divine?
Filming is flat and straightforward, and while almost all the sets are obvious interiors, not even approaching D.W. Griffith for spectacle, rich colors in costumes and lighting sometimes recall the art of El Greco. Sophisticated drama surrounds the fears of Pontius Pilate (Lowell Gilmore) that the mild-mannered Nazarene is a pawn in some scheme to embarrass him politically, placing Jesus on the road to crucifixion (which is not rendered as a bloodbath).
While much of Christ's dialogue is verbatim from scripture, little used here is pitched as prophecy. Even the Resurrection is a subdued climax. In a way, the film anticipates Jesus Christ Superstar, the rock-musical smash that also elevated Judas to a semi-sympathetic co-star; most of the other apostles are relegated to name-drops, and we only hear of Peter denying Jesus after the fact.
A nice addition to the Festival Films disc is a short "making of" extra. It places the humble religious picture in the context of its time (alas, without clips from 1961's King of Kings or 1965's The Greatest Story Ever Told for compare-contrast) and appreciates its virtues.
The feature may not be a masterpiece, but its status as an untouched landmark is firm. Day of Triumph manages to capture the essence of Biblical stories with an earnest and sincere approach. Ideally suited for religious film collections in public libraries (and mainstream ones, particularly around Easter), Day of Triumph will hopefully find belated salvation on video.